


Teenage Dirtbag

by anglophilia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Derek and Stiles Being Idiots, Drinking, Fluff, Karaoke, M/M, Stiles can sing, barkeeper!Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 11:08:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2065872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anglophilia/pseuds/anglophilia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles was going to kill whoever had had the stupid idea to spend their Friday evening at the karaoke bar. Aaand that would be himself. Whoops. But to his defense he hadn’t actually planned to sing himself; his plan was to get Scott completely drunk, let him sing, film that and make him Youtube famous. Awesome plan, right? But somewhere along the line his plan went completely wrong an he got completely drunk and Scott nominated him for Teenage Dirtbag.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teenage Dirtbag

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction in years and the first one I wrote in English, so please be nice!  
> Enjoy! : )

Stiles was going to kill whoever had had the stupid idea to spend their Friday evening at the karaoke bar. Aaand that would be himself. Whoops.But to his defense he hadn’t actually planned to sing himself; his plan was to get Scott completely drunk, let him sing, film that and make him Youtube famous. Awesome plan, right? But somewhere along the line his plan went completely wrong an he got completely drunk and Scott nominated him for Teenage Dirtbag.

To make his pain even worse, half the college was there this evening. Friday night was 90s night and a student favourite. So there he was now, on the stage, spotlights so bright he couldn’t see any of the other people and right now, thank god. Then the first chords started and he was tapping his fingers on his jeans. He knew the song by heart and he loved it, because it remembered him of one very hot barkeeper. He cleared his throat and started singing. “His name is Derek and he doesn’t know who I am…”

He could hear Scott laughing in the audience and some people even cheered, which gave him some confidence. He was a good singer, actually, but just not in public, thank you very much. But as the song went on and no one started to throw stuff at him, his confidence grew even more. He was actually a bit sad when it ended. He thanked the audience, and left the stage with the microphone still in his hand so he had to awkwardly jog back and hand it to the next singer. With a sigh he let himself fall on the seat next to his best friend who, bless his evil soul, had ordered him shots. His girlfriend, Allison, gave him a clap on his shoulder and said: “Well done, Stiles, you never told me you can sing that good.” Scott laughed: “He mostly does it under the shower, among other things.” The whole group laughed until Lydia, taking her eyes from her phone for a minute, grinned: “Cora says Derek liked the perfomance.” Stiles eyes widened and he looked around spotting Cora, who waved at him and gave him a thumbs up, before she pointed to the bar where, oh shit, Derek Hale was mixing a cocktail. He immediately turned around, sunk deep into his seat and bumped his head on the table. “Kill me.”

 

Derek was annoyed when his shift started, even more annoyed than usual, because Friday was usually his day off, but since one of his co-workers called in sick today he had to postpone his plan to finally finish War and Peace. After ten years or so. He hated to work Friday evenings because of the masses of drunk college kids and 90s music. Normally he’d rather shoot himself than hearing shitty versions of Wannabe or Teenage Dirtbag for the thousandth time. He was mixing a “Sex on the Beach” for some girl that was shamelessly flirting him, when Teenage Dirtbag started to play (again). He may have liked that song when he was younger, but working at a karaoke bar really destroyed that song for him. He quickly glanced at the stage, so he knew in whose drink he should spit (only mentally of course, sadly he needed the money). Derek’s eyes widened as he recognized the young boy on the stage.

Stiles was a regular at the bar, always loud, never shutting up about anything.He was even worse when he was drunk and tried to hit on him, but blushing the second Derek looked at him. And never remembering anything about it the next day. He was everything he normally hated, but didn’t. The days when Stiles came, alone or with his friends were his favourite days. When he came alone he would sit at the bar, usually hours before people came and Derek prepared the cocktails. Sometimes Stiles would sneak behind the bar and steal an orange or a banana, but Derek didn’t mind actually, the boy looked like he could use some food. When he came with his friends they usually sat at the same table, sometimes the girls would perform a duet together, but they were actually quite quiet (apart from Stiles of course). Derek liked them.

Stiles looked quite nervous on stage and Derek could swear that his voice trembled a bit when he started singing. Then he said his name and from the corner of his eye he saw Cora nearly spitting out her drink and one of Stiles friends, Scott he thought, was laughing out loud. Some people in the audience were even cheering. Derek just leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. As the song went on Stiles gained more confidence and, holy shit, he was actually a good singer. He kept his eyes closed for most of the time and his hands clasped around the microphone like was holding onto it for his dear life.When he finish he cought Cora grinning at him again and raising an eyebrow. Derek just shook his head and turning back again to mix a Margharita. He had a smile on his lips for the rest of the evening.

 

Stiles knew that the bar would close around 2am and that Derek was usually the last one to leave, so he waited outside at his car. Allison and Lydia had brought one very drunk Scott back to their dorms, but not without checking on him via SMS every 5 Minutes. At 2:06 Derek left the club, leather jacket casually thrown over one shoulder and black shirt so tight that Stiles believed his muscles would rip it any minute. He took a deep breath and approached Derek, who had already raised an eyebrow, looking worried. 

“Do you need help with anything, Stiles?” Stiles liked his lips and looked down at his shoes. “No, not really. I just- sorry for that song thing. I guess it must be really creepy, I mean I thought you weren’t there.” Derek laughed: “It was as creepy as waiting outside the bar for me. What the fuck, Stiles, it’s 2am, dark and cold. Why didn’t you just wait inside or told me you want to talk to me?” Stiles needed a moment to process the amount of words coming out of the older ones mouth.  
Normally he would get only a short “mhm” or a nod. He wasn’t even sure how Derek knew his name, but he was ver pleased by it. “Because this is embarassing. I mean - can I still come?” Derek gave him a puzzled look. “Why wouldn’t you?”  
Then, after short pause added: “I like it when you come.” Stiles looked up, a big, happy smile on his face - he could explode with happiness. “Really? Because I really like to come! It’s an awesome bar! And you are awesome! Aaand I’ve said way too much again” There where a few moments of awkward silence between them in which both looked at their feet, both not knowing what to say until Derek finally broke the silence: “So, do you want to go for a coffee or something sometime?”  
“Dude, yes, I love coffee.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Comments are always welcome!
> 
> You can visit me at gay-for-gethin.tumblr.com


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